She was striking—no man could help but notice her. But he was starting to look beyond the physical, to see inside. With subtle glances across a conference table or seemingly unintentional touches when they were standing close, he could tell she was feeling the same thing. The professional part of him told him it couldn’t happen—shouldn’t happen—but the man inside of him was telling him something entirely different.
And it was getting harder to ignore.
Andrew returned his thoughts to his chairman of the Joint Chiefs on the other end of the line as Jessie sat down across from his desk. “Go ahead, Ray. Continue,” he said.
“Sir, when the B-52s hit the Omaha wave, we initially thought the strike had wiped them out. They were just . . . gone. But the other five waves we were monitoring disappeared at the same time. Their advances suddenly stopped, and all the infrared signatures disappeared in the span of a few minutes.”
“You said you think they went underground?”
“Yes, sir. We’ve got people on the ground in the area of the Omaha strike. They’re reporting the bombing killed hundreds of the things. They’ve recovered a number of the bodies for analysis as well, sir.”
“Good. Maybe we can figure out what the hell caused this.”
“Yes, sir. Some of the things were in the process of going to ground when they were killed by the strike. From the looks of it, the ones that survived the bombing escaped by quickly tunneling underground. We assume they’re still there, Mr. President.”
“How deep did they go?”
“We’re trying to ascertain that right now, sir. We’ve got ground imaging radar being flown into the area. If they’re not too deep, we can bomb the bastards out.”
“And if they’re too deep?”
“We’re working on that, sir.”
“The same thing happened with the other five waves? At the same time?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Were they under attack as well?”
“The B-52s weren’t hitting them yet—tactical aircraft, cluster bombs, no heavy bombardment. It wasn’t making much of a dent in their numbers.”
“So what you’re telling me is they went to ground for some reason other than being under attack?”
“Yes, sir, it would appear so.”
“How long until we have the ground radar in position?”
“It should be outside Omaha within the hour, Mr. President.”
“If we can kill them, General, I want air strikes lined up and ready to go as soon as we know. If they’re too deep, I want options.”
“Understand, sir.”
“Thank you, General.” The president disconnected the line and pushed another button connecting him to his secretary of Homeland Security. Hugo McIntyre’s voice came on a few seconds later.
“Yes, Mr. President.”
“Hugo, what’s the status of the evacuations?”
“Sir, it’s not going as well as we’d hoped.”
The president listened as Hugo McIntyre told him the bad news. Even though the exercises had gone relatively well, and the American people were much more prepared for a citywide evacuation now than they’d ever been in the past, he’d known it wouldn’t go smoothly. The people knew what was coming, and some had panicked. The highways were jammed with traffic, hopelessly stalled by wrecks that were taking much too long to clear. Many had died in the rush to evacuate, and it was possible many more would die as the process continued. It was inevitable.
The president knew it would be a game of numbers. A cold calculus. The number to die in the evacuations would be much less than those who would die if the things made it into the cities. They’d already lost over half a million people in a little more than twenty-four hours. That number by itself was hard to stomach, but Andrew Smith knew it could be much, much worse. If the things hadn’t stopped when they did . . .
“Hugo, I want those cities cleared. I don’t care what kind of resources you need to do it. We have a pause right now, and I don’t know how long it will last. So far, the things have only been active at night. If this remains so, we have about ten hours before they start moving again.”
“We’re doing all we can, sir.”
“I know. Keep pressing, Hugo.”
“Yes, sir.”
The president ended the call. “Jessie, I want the bodies of those things completely analyzed. I want to know what made them, I want to know what makes them tick, and I want to know how to kill them.”
“Yes, Mr. President.” She turned to leave.
“And Jessie?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Thanks for letting me get some sleep. I needed it.”
“You’re welcome, sir.” She smiled. For an instant, it seemed like she was going to say something else, but the moment slipped away as she turned to leave.
Andrew watched her leave, wishing he’d met her in another time and another place, where he could tell her how he felt. As the door swung shut behind her, he felt incredibly alone. He needed a partner now more than ever, someone he could talk to without a professional barrier, someone who could listen to his doubts, listen to his fears, and help him shoulder all the burdens resting solidly, and completely, on his shoulders. Since Kate’s death, he hadn’t had that kind of closeness with anyone. She’d guided him through his military career and through the first tough year of his administration. Always there, always listening, always understanding. Oh, how he needed her now.
But Kate was dead and gone. And she would never come back.
Alone in the situation room, the president covered his face with his hands as the tears slowly streamed down his face.
CHAPTER 24
Carolyn screamed.
In front of her was a beast standing on two crooked legs, its long, clawed arms reaching for her, glowing eyes burning right into her own eyes like two fiery shafts of pain. She tried to run, but couldn’t. She felt its cold, leathery hands grasp her head, felt the pain as its claws dug into her cheeks and scalp, and sickeningly realized she was about to die as the thing began to twist. She heard the bones in her neck snap as her head was wrenched from her shoulders—
“Ms. Ridenour? Carolyn, wake up, it’s okay. You’re safe now! Carolyn?”
She opened her eyes—a hospital? A man was leaning over her. He was wearing a white coat, and a stethoscope hung from his neck. She could smell the distinctive medical stink that she hated so much: heavy disinfectant, sterile, suffocating. “Where am I?” she asked.
“You’re in a hospital in Omaha, Ms. Ridenour. My name is Doctor Tanner.”
“What happened? Why am I—”
“There was a crash, Carolyn. You were brought here after your helicopter went down. Do you remember?”
She did.
The snapping tree branches. The smell of sap.
The yellow eyes.
Her memories came flooding back. “There was a thing in the chopper! It killed the pilot—oh God, it killed the soldiers! They were shooting it, but it wouldn’t die! It got into the cockpit and grabbed the pilot and—”
Doctor Tanner held her steady. “It’s all right now. It’s dead.”
She didn’t want to ask the next question. “Is anyone . . . My team was on that chopper—”
The doctor stood. His face said it all.
Carolyn’s heart sank. All of them, dead? “Did anyone survive?”
“No, ma’am. I’m very sorry.”
Carolyn closed her eyes tightly as the faces of her team flashed through her mind. Her memories of them were all smiles, laughter, and camaraderie. They’d been her coworkers. They’d been her friends.
She tried to suppress the sobs rising in her throat, tried hard to stay strong. A tear ran down her cheek as she felt someone sit down on the side of her bed.
“Ms. Ridenour?”
She o
pened her eyes and saw a soldier sitting by her side. She immediately recognized him as the Army officer she’d met at Kansas City International—Colonel Hoffman. “You were at—”
“Kansas City. The airport. I met you when your team arrived.”
Carolyn remembered seeing the things sweep over the tarmac, killing everyone in their path, jumping on the helicopters trying to take off. She didn’t think anyone could’ve survived. “You made it out?”
“Yes.” He looked down at the floor. “I was on the last chopper to get out.”
She knew the operations at the airport had been his responsibility—he’d been in command. She felt incredible pain from the loss of her team, but she could only imagine the torment he felt from losing his soldiers. There’d been so many of them.
And he’d been the last one out.
The doctor spoke. “Ms. Ridenour, you’re a very lucky lady. Colonel Hoffman here found your crash site and got you out of there just in time.”
“Just in time?” She didn’t like the sound of that.
“We found your chopper right before it was overrun.” Garrett was looking up again. “I tripped over you trying to get out of there, as a matter of fact.”
“You were thrown from the crash site, Ms. Ridenour,” Doctor Tanner said. “Luckily, you’ve only suffered some minor cuts and bruises. It could’ve been much worse.”
Carolyn looked Garrett in the eyes. “You saved me?”
“I tripped over you.”
Now I remember, she thought. You’re an asshole. “Well, I guess I owe you a debt of gratitude for not being too swift on your feet then.”
“Yes, I guess you do.” He was frowning.
Carolyn immediately felt guilty for poking at him. He had, after all, risked his life to save her and had apparently barely made it out alive.
“Look, I’m sorry for that. I really do owe you a debt of gratitude. I owe you my life, Colonel. Thank you for saving me.”
“You’re welcome, Ms. Ridenour.” At the airport, he’d seen her as a nuisance, an officious civilian getting in his way. But after he’d pulled her from the field and held her in his arms in the chopper, he’d felt an attachment to her. He hadn’t been able to save many of his soldiers, but he had been able to save this one woman. That, to him, was a small victory. A single victory in the face of what had been a black night of unimaginable horror.
He turned to the doctor. “Doc, is she good to travel?”
“Travel? To where?”
“I have orders to accompany Ms. Ridenour to Utah. Today.”
“Ms. Ridenour is in no condition to travel, Colonel. She’s survived a traumatic helicopter crash. She needs to rest. I need to keep her under observation for—”
“Doc, I don’t think you understand,” Hoffman said. “If the trip won’t kill her, she’s going to travel. Right now.”
“By whose orders?”
“Somebody who has enough stars on his shoulders to make both of our lives a living hell if we don’t move quickly enough.”
Carolyn sat up in bed. Her temples throbbed in protest. “They want me back at Van—to go to Utah?”
“Yes, Ms. Ridenour,” Garrett said.
“Carolyn. Call me Carolyn.” She found herself looking past the Army colonel and seeing Garrett for the first time. He was tall with angular features. Quite handsome. His eyes were slate-gray, communicating purpose, determination, and warmth.
“Okay, Carolyn it is, then. Yes, they want you back at Dugway as soon as you can move. If the doc says the trip won’t kill you, we’ll head for the flight line as soon as we can get out of here. Now, I need my answer, Doc. Is she good to go?”
“She needs to stay here for observation. Her injuries from the crash weren’t serious, but sometimes things can come up unexpectedly that we didn’t catch in our initial—”
“If you haven’t noticed, Doctor, thousands of people were slaughtered last night. There’s a very good chance that thousands more will be slaughtered before we can figure out how to stop these things. Ms. Ridenour may be able to help us do just that. If she can move, she’ll move! Now give me a fucking yes or no, or I’ll find another doc who can give me an answer!”
The doctor was obviously not accustomed to having a good portion of his ass bitten off, and his face showed it. He stammered as he said, “I don’t believe the trip will kill her. But if it does, it’s your responsibility, Colonel, not mine.” He turned on his heel and left.
Carolyn had already swung her legs over the side of the bed. “I feel fine, for Christ’s sake. Where the heck are my clothes?”
“Now that’s more like it!” Garrett grabbed Carolyn’s folded clothes from a chair in the corner of the room and tossed them to her. “Get dressed. I’ll inform Dugway that we’re on our way.”
Much to his surprise, Carolyn stood, dropped her hospital gown to the floor, and started to get dressed. He couldn’t help but stare, for a second. A long second. He turned away when Carolyn paused and looked at him.
“What’s the matter? Never seen a naked woman before?”
Catching himself before he said, “Well, yes,” Hoffman felt his face flush and quickly said, “I’ll go call Dugway.”
“Good. I’ll be ready in a min—” She fell to the floor in a half-dressed heap.
Garrett knelt beside her and helped her sit up. “Are you okay?”
Her temples were throbbing terribly. “I’m a little light-headed. And I’ve got one hell of a headache. You must’ve stepped on my head when you tripped over me.”
“Yeah, I’m a hopeless klutz. You’re really okay to travel, right? If you croak, it’ll be my ass.”
“Thanks for the genuine concern for my well-being, Colonel Hoffman.”
“It’s Garrett.” He helped her sit on the side of the bed.
“Okay, Garrett, then. Yeah, I’m okay to travel.” She pulled her skirt up to her waist and buttoned her blouse. “Did they happen to tell you why they needed me back so fast?”
“They have some of the things. Dead ones. The bodies are on the way there right now, and they want you to take a look at them.” He paused. “And since I have nothing else holding me here, I’m escorting you.”
Carolyn looked into his eyes and saw the pain. She reached out and took his hand. “Are you okay?”
He pulled his hand away and stood. “I’m as good as I can be. Hurry up. I’ll be waiting outside the door.” He pulled a cell phone from the leg pocket of his ACUs as he stepped into the hall.
Carolyn knew that talking to someone about what he was feeling was not on the top of his priority list at the moment. He was, after all, a soldier with a mission to accomplish.
As Carolyn hurriedly finished putting her clothes on, she couldn’t help but wonder what they’d discovered that so desperately required her analysis. Why Dugway? Why are they taking the bodies there?
She remembered what the sergeant major had told her about the creatures staying out of the light and the hunch she’d had, right before the things had attacked the airport.
If her hunch was correct . . .
She ran into the hall and grabbed Hoffman by the arm. “Garrett! What are you waiting for? Let’s go!”
Thirty minutes later, they were screaming westward in a C-21—a USAF Learjet—toward the Dugway Proving Ground in Utah.
CHAPTER 25
The sleek B-1B Lancer—called the Bone by those in the close-knit B-1 community—started its target run, rising slowly above the horizon from the north, wings swept back for high-speed efficiency. The bomber’s long, graceful lines made it look like an angry gray goose in one hell of a hurry, its cockpit glass glinting in the sun like two infuriated eyes probing the terrain below. The on-board targeting avionics were controlling every aspect of this run, ensuring perfect speed and altitude, calculating exact drop points, constantly analyzing wind speed
and direction, air density, and other environmental factors that could affect the flight paths of the forty ground imaging radar sensors it was about to pound into the silent, infested ground outside of Omaha, now some ten miles distant from its current location.
The technology developed to “see” deep into the ground had advanced rapidly over the past few years, driven by the necessity to find—and kill—those who made it their habit to cower in well-developed, well-hidden underground shelters.
Radio-frequency energy—radar—had been used to penetrate the ground for various civilian purposes before the war started, such as measuring the amount of water present in the soil or finding metallic ore deposits.
As was the case with most civilian scientific advancements, the technology lent itself perfectly to military use. Ground imaging radar technology, coupled with remarkable advances in computer processing and imaging capabilities, had rapidly progressed to the point of being able to take a detailed snapshot of what lay beneath the surface of the earth. Three-dimensional images of underground complexes could be produced with exacting, almost pinpoint detail. The underground targets could be seen, studied for vulnerabilities, and then destroyed.
The afterburners from the Bone’s four powerful engines spouted long tongues of blue flame as the huge bomber nosed upward, condensation clouds enveloping the aircraft as it muscled and ripped its way through air, the rapid onset of g’s slamming the flight crew into their seats. With the computers controlling the flight, they were just along for the ride.
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